Ines lay on the bed, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Her skin felt like it was on fire.
Carcel's hands were everywhere. They were large, warm, and slick with the golden oil. He moved with a maddening slowness, exploring every inch of her chest, kneading the soft flesh until she felt like she was melting into the mattress.
Ines bit her lip. Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of the sensation.
Is this really just flower oil? Ines thought to herself, her eyes fluttering shut. Edith used to use sunflower oil for dry elbows. It never felt like this. It never felt like liquid lightning.
She arched her back slightly as his thumb brushed over a sensitive nerve.
If it is just oil, she reasoned, it shouldn't feel this hot. It feels like he is pouring warm honey over me. Or maybe... maybe it is just him.
It had been a month. A long, lonely month of letters and longing. Her body remembered him, and now that he was here, every nerve ending was screaming for his touch.
